


Sunset on the Woven Cage

by SnapbackPirat



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Humor, Slow Burn, Slow burn friendship, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnapbackPirat/pseuds/SnapbackPirat
Summary: There stands alone, in the middle of the forest, a well, guarded over by a woman..“Ewwwww! A dung beetle!? Really?!” she whines, and after lining up her shot, heavily flicks the harmless beetle far, far into the woods with the tip of her blessed bow.It’s… not exactly the epic battle his pack expected, and they all lay in the underbrush, slightly dumbfounded, but still Kouga’s eyes are on the priestess.....This in itself is not so unique, as there are as many people willing to stand as defenders as there are unique and wondrous places to be defended in this time of the world. Were Kouga’s sense of smell or sixth sense for magic and auras less than what it was, he would never know that she was anything more than a pretty human face.But she *was* more.And that’s why he, and undoubtedly several others, are here....A 'Kagome makes a wish on the jewel at the final battle. It's the wrong wish.' AU.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome & InuYasha, Higurashi Kagome & Kouga, Higurashi Kagome/Kouga
Comments: 13
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

  
  
She’s entirely alone when he arrives, but that won’t last for long.

.

There stands alone, in the middle of the forest, a well, guarded over by a woman; this in itself is not so unique, as there are as many people willing to stand as defenders as there are unique and wondrous places to be defended in this time of the world. At first glance, she herself is not so unique either- a priestess, like many before her and undoubtedly as many after, with hair as dark as the night and eyes akin to the forest floor; earthy, warm, and inviting of life. She’s of average height and fair-skinned and entirely unremarkable in vision alone. Were it that Kouga’s sense of smell or sixth sense for magic and auras less than what it was, he would never know that she was anything more than a pretty human face.

But she _was_ more.

And that’s why he, and undoubtedly several others, are here.

.

He sticks to the outskirts of the clearing at first. Sniffing, sensing. Sorting through all other sensations. Scouting. He’s not the only demon who’s been here, and in fact even now he is not alone; he can sense another, weaker than he, lingering on the outskirts upwind of him; some dog demon, likely up to the same as himself. The dark skin of the bridge of his nose crinkles: they smell. Badly. Perhaps they’ve not scented him and the loyal few he’d chosen to accompany him, tho Kouga doubts it, but if so all the better for Kouga and his pack. The odds are in their favor in case a fight breaks out.

In the event the priestess joins the fray, however…

Well, he snuffles, tail twitching minutely. They’ll get to it when they get to it.

.

It’s been something close to an hour of scouting and neither the dog opposite them nor the priestess between have made a move, and Kouga finds the actions of the mutt agreeably intelligent. It would be suicide to go in claws out and snarling with no idea what the enemy was capable of. He does not yet know even if she _is_ an enemy, despite the perhaps obvious tilt toward opposition, nor why he felt a call to be here, aside from the allure of a nondescript power. He commands his pack to rest and make camp; they will watch, and they will learn, and only when he knows beyond reason of doubt there is something worth fighting for will they move in on the priestess.

As for him, he is the leader and he who commanded their coordination on the well in the first place. He is responsible for their being there, and so he takes first watch, and knows deep in his heart that she can feel his bright gaze through the underbrush.

.

They don’t have to wait long.

The moon is nearly gone in the sky, closer to morning than anything else. The barest hint of the sun begins to brighten the edge of the sky when Hakkaku moves to wake him. It’s unnecessary: Kouga’s already awake. He can feel the vibrations in the earth, hears the distant breaking of branches. There’s a sixth sense all creatures in tune with the earth innately possess, and he knows before he can sense in any other way that _danger, danger_ sunders toward them.

The ogre breaks through the treeline of the small clearing with little ceremony, and then it is upon her, snarling and drooling in a display of savagery common for yokai of similar, meagre intelligence. It’s as tall as it is wide, carrying (surprise of surprises) a wooden club hardly refined from the day it was dragged, unwilling, from the earth. Size does not equal ferocity though, not to demons, and it certainly means nothing to a priestess who might purify flesh and blood in seconds, should she be capable. It trundles fearlessly toward the tiny woman whom, Hakkaku informs him, has apparently not slept the entire night. Kouga’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Even the most powerful of human priestesses need to rest. He and his pack settle in to watch.

His eyes never once leave the priestess.

_“I can smell your power, human,”_ it growls.

“I can smell you too,” she replies, grimacing.

“Please consider walking through a river the next time you know you're gonna see a lady.”

Ginta stifles a snort: Kouga cuffs him gently, but the corner of his mouth is twitches traitorously. She’s either _very_ confident or _very_ powerful.

The ogre _roars_. His pack’s ears go flat against their heads: he’s sure the dog across from them doesn’t fare much better.

_“I have no time for your games! Give me what I seek!”_ it howls, raising its club.

The human shrugs, and steps to the side of the well.

That throws _everyone_ for a loop. The ogre is no exception. It lowers its club partially, head tilted sideways. Kouga can feel Ginta and Hakkaku on either side of him trading glances. Kouga only frowns, curious. The woman _is_ a priestess, he knows it; he can sense her spirit. Even the ogre, dull as it was, must have been able to sense it. She is well armed: a longbow on her back and full quiver latched to her waist.

Is she… _neglecting_ her sacred duties?

“I can’t give you what you want,” she says, and it strikes him suddenly, how strange she is; she’s spoken hardly a handful of words and yet the manner in which she speaks them… it _is_ their language. But _different_. He doesn’t know how to describe it, only that it is somehow the same and yet… foreign.

Kouga leans forward, eager to catch every word.

The ogre does seemingly the same, club scraping the grass now.

“I only _guard_ the well. I can’t make it work for you. Only you can do that,” she tells it, and for some reason, a phrase rings out in the back of his mind.

_Listen buddy, I just work here!_

Kouga blinks.

The voice he hears is hers; the intonation, the _indignation_.

Kouga blinks, dumbly, again.

“--so if you want to try it out, by all means,” she offers. She’s standing, hand on cocked hip, nonchalantly showcasing a sacred site. To an _ogre_.

He has _no_ idea what to make of her.

The ogre, almost beyond belief, listens to her. It walks forward, fiery eyes at first upon the priestess, and then as it approaches, on the unassuming structure at the center of the whole insane scene. It leans over the well, seeming to finally find its sense of wariness at the ease of its quest. Its massive hands grip the edges as it peers in and, finding nothing of interest, turns to look at the priestess. It’s frankly comical, this thirty-foot wrathful creature turning to stare at the five-foot woman in religious costume like a dog might after its owner has thrown a ball. Instead of fetching, it would turn to look as though to say _‘well, what next?’_.

She _sighs_ the sigh of the extremely put-upon.

“It might be magic but it doesn’t read minds,” she explains, exasperated, “you’ve got to tell it what your wish is.” 

_That_ catches Kouga’s attention.

A well that grants _wishes?_

“A well that grants wishes?” Hakkaku repeats dumbly next to him.

Kouga cuffs _him_ in lieu of shushing.

The ogre, satisfied, turns back to the well, and without much thought declares with spit:  
  
 _“I wish to be the strongest!”_

Everyone holds their breaths. For a moment, nothing happens.

The ogre is opening its putrid mouth again when a magenta beam emanates from the well: it blinds the ogre with a howl, lights up the ever-lightening sky in a straight beam far above, and with a blinding _flash_ , the ogre... simply _disappears_. 

Or at least, that’s what Kouga thinks, until the priestess approaches the well and _shrieks._ His pack winces as she raises her bow, communal hackles raised, tensed to fight.

 _“Ewwwww!_ A dung beetle!? _Really?!_ ” she whines, and after lining up her shot, heavily _flicks_ the harmless beetle far, far into the woods with the tip of her blessed bow.

It’s… not exactly the epic battle his pack expected, and they all lay in the underbrush, slightly dumbfounded, but still Kouga’s eyes are on the priestess. Ginta and Hakkaku exchange bewildered looks, turning to ask their leader _what next_? until they see the look on his face, and they share a commiserating groan. 

They know The Look too well. That Look has won them bets with angered demons, gotten them nearly killed while spying on the warring human royalty: 

Kouga is _invested._

They’re _doomed._

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edited 11/28/2020.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of character development for my boys!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to write in a slightly different style for every character; hence the exposition for Hakkaku: the wiki says that he was the more shrewd one, so I'll attribute his keen observational skills to that. Going to post another short chapter tonight as well, as I wanted to keep everything sort of evenly paced, and felt the other half of what i wrote tonight would overwhelm the pace I desire.

.

There’s not much to do for it: they set up a small, permanent camp past the outskirts of the clearing. If Kouga could have been talked out of it, he would be a much different kind of leader, and his people know better than to try, so when he orders it of them they give each other knowing looks and simply move on. It’s not to say that he’s a bad leader, or even making a bad decision- far from it, if he were making a knowledgeably bad decision (and indeed, if he made them often enough for one as simple as this to be called into question), there would be far more protestation going on, and, he would have long since been removed from his position of power. 

All that to say, if Kouga was experiencing some harmless flight of fancy, it was easier to just let him work through the distraction than convince him otherwise.  
  
Hakkaku startles when two rabbits, freshly killed, are dropped next to his position. He’s been tasked with watching - spying - scouting on the priestess while the rest of them set up. It almost feels redundant: she hasn’t moved more than maybe fifteen feet since the ogre had burst into the clearing that morning, and the sun is low in the sky now, nearing the golden hour.  
  
Ginta drops next to him without a sound, attention half on the clearing, and begins slicing the furry skin away from the lean meat beneath with a knife. Hakkaku almost shakes his head - it’s a longtime habit of Ginta’s to be overly careful with his food - and despite his best efforts, one he’ll never understand. Hakkaku nabs the other rabbit and simply tears away at the flesh, digging into the meat messily. Ginta grimaces, a prissy little expression.  
  
“Don’t get the blood on my furs, I just washed them two weeks ago,” he pouts, before settling in properly to peel the still-cooling meat from bone, glancing away.

“Any changes?”  
  
“Nah,” Hakkaku dutifully reports, gnawing laboriously. Damn, but it was _tough_ : more gamey than usual. Ginta rolls his eyes at him, primly biting on a dismembered thigh.

“Nothing? Really?”  
  
“If there had _been_ something I would have _told_ you,” he responds bluntly, “but she’s barely even moved. She just seems kind of bored. I would be too if I were her-- no one’s come to talk to her. No other demons, no priests or priestesses, no one,” he answers. Ginta frowns, chewing on the thought as much as he is on the tough meat. Hakkaku digs a sharp nail to pick free a thready piece caught between tooth and gum. 

“She’s barely even moved. In fact-- I think she’s sleeping right now,” he glances over his shoulder just to double check, and, yup-- with her head pillowed on her arms, leaning on the lip of the well like some love-lorn girly, save for the fact she’s dead to the world instead of, say, pining over some husband gone to war. When he pays attention he can hear her gently snoring; it’s kind of hilarious and not at all elegant- if he had to put a word to it, it’s almost cute.

When he turns back, Ginta’s frowning even harder. Hakkaku rolls his eyes.

“You’re overthinking. I can see it. _Sense_ it. Tell your brain to think quieter.” he gripes, and Ginta turns his glare on him.

“I’m not overthinking it! What the hell kind of priestess _actively_ sleeps on the job?”   
“A tired one.”   
“I’m going to punch y--”

“Come on, even humans gotta nap around this time! And here I am, _spying_ on a lady who can’t be bothered to at the very least be entertaining while I watch her through the warmest hours of the day--”   
“But _why_ \-- _how_ could she possibly feel comfortable sleeping out in the open like that? She’s leaning on a monster-magnet. Why hasn’t anyone come to relieve her?”

Hakkaku sighs and lowers the tiny ribs he’d been gnawing through, wiping the gore from his face with his hand and wiping it on the grass. He pointedly ignores his friend’s disgusted look as he raises his hand.

“Option one,” he folds his thumb toward his palm, “she’s asleep because she’s just kinda dumb, which, doubtful. I don’t think even the most inept of human packs would knowingly leave someone who’s not capable to watch over a magical wish-granting well. Option number _two_ ,” he says, folding in the next and trapping it with his thumb, “she’s _really good_ at what she does and doesn’t feel threatened at all.”

“But why haven’t any other humans come out to see her? Tatsu and I went out earlier, and the most recent human scent we could find is weeks old,” Ginta’s turned more contemplative now, brow beginning to furrow. He glances out at the still-dozing woman. An uneasy feeling starts to settle in Hakkaku’s gut. It feels something like a soft dread, although for who or what he’s not sure.

His stomach rumbles.

It might be the rabbit, actually.

He shakes away his thoughts, and gently shoves at Ginta with his foot.

“Come on, don’t go getting all soft for a human stray,” he jokes, but as soon as he says it he sees the look cross his best friend’s face and he hurries to change the subject.

“A-anyway, there are other things to consider. Maybe she’s the only person who’s allowed to watch the well. Maybe the humans here operate differently than others,” he offers.

“Maybe she’s not allowed to leave.” Ginta surmises, and the conversation dies immediately following _that_.

Hakkaku’s picking at the sad remnants of the rabbit when Ginta makes A Noise. Hakkaku lifts his head to see Ginta staring wide-eyed into the clearing, and when he turns to look, he makes A Noise too, whacking gently at Ginta’s arm. His friend is gone before he can land a second hit, undoubtedly to warn Kouga (in the unlikely event he isn’t already aware) while Hakkaku gets low, focusing all his attention forward.

The mutt they’ve been smelling is _in the clearing._

And he’s standing, staring at the priestess.

The _awake_ priestess.

_Shit_.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaand the other half of last chapter.

.

Ginta slides into the dirt next to Kouga two minutes after he’s scented the mutt coming closer. He would almost be annoyed at his second, but for that he’s _always_ had better senses than the rest of his clan. Better senses, faster reflexes, quicker thinking, stronger form. It’s why he’s the leader. All he does is knuckle Ginta’s shoulder in acknowledgement as he tries to attune his focus toward the sound.

.  
  


He sniffs.

She stares.

His clawed hands twitch around his own arms from within his haori, the hue of fresh blood.

Her hands ball into fists against the grain of the well.

It’s silent for a breeze, a moment in time.

“...I… _know_ you,” he starts slowly, her scent, her face filling his senses like a moontide come ashore, _achingly_ slow 

but -

.

For all that he has the better senses, they’re doing him little good now.

They’ve barely exchanged a word, and whatever they’ve said, and something's blocking his senses, frustratingly. A humming wall of energy, just enough to obfuscate detail. His mouth presses into a grim line and he drags deep marks in the dirt as his fists clench around the soil, begging to take _some_ sort of action.

He _doesn’t_ like this.

Worse, he doesn’t _know what_ he doesn’t like about this.

The mutt isn’t posturing. He isn’t putting on a display, and he certainly isn’t attacking. He reached the well first, and apparently finished staking it out, and he’s made the first move, which, okay, Kouga doesn’t like that already: he doesn’t like being second in anything, much less second in-the-know.

But something just rubs his fur the _wrong_ way. The longer the mutt stares at the woman, the more he feels like -

_Like -_

Like he’s _lost_ something.

He works his overtense jaw, detached as he feels the oncoming snarl.

He doesn’t _like_ losing. Not a race, not a battle.

And this loss feels like trying to stop the rain, or war, or all the world’s injustice. It feels --

.

  
  


\- inevitable.

  
  


“Don’t I?”

  
  


She swallows.

“Yeah,” she breathes, a million sorrows balanced on the edge of a single sound.

She inhales. It’s shaky. _She’s_ shaking.

She wets her lips, and backtracks.

He knows that gaze. He’s _got_ to. 

It shouldn’t, couldn’t make his stomach drop to his feet like this if he doesn’t, didn't.

There’s a thousand things that she can say, and a million more she can’t. In the end, all that comes out is

  
“You used to.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaaand a little bit of action from our other friends in this scene lol  
> thank you so much for the comments on the first chapter! it meant a lot to come back to this and find interest! I hope you guys enjoy :)  
> update 5/8/2020 : made edits


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then, the lovers meet.

.

The mutt doesn’t stick around long, thank the gods - they seemed to exchange a handful of words before the mutt was leaping from the clearing of his own volition - but his presence still sits the wrong way beneath Kouga’s skin, like a mite or bug. He’s pissed off because of it too, but Ginta and Hakkaku are smart, and don’t bother him past ensuring they _also_ heard nothing.

Fucking _annoying._

He’s determined to overcome this. He just needs something _more._ Clarity. Information. It’s the dawn of the second day since their arrival; three days and two nights in total spent on gaining nothing but more and more questions. The seldom few brave enough to face the priestess have either gotten what they deserved, seemingly been sent running or, to add to the tally after a brief incident with some sort of bird demon flock the night prior, been obliterated via several wicked and holy arrows for their troubles (and, in the process, apparently clarifying her status as ‘unassuming but clearly competent’ for his two lovely, idiotic second-and-third in command).

There seems to be no inherent danger in approaching the woman, Kouga muses: while the hanyou had beat a hasty retreat, the interaction between the two had seemed peaceful enough whereas those who had approached as challengers had met equal if opposite ends. 

And so naturally, as he is attempting to formulate a tactical, informed decision when it’s taken entirely out of his hands.

.

  
  


“It’s _your_ turn, just take them over that way,” Ginta hisses, shoving the pile of animal bones into Hakkaku’s arms, casting a few around their little dugout. He frowns, moves to pick them up, and then the rest of the small collection are dropped in front of his face.

Suffice to say, it’s not something that he appreciates.  
“It’s just some bones! Leave them where they are, we can toss them into the fire later!”  
“ _Yes_ , but if we leave them laying around _now_ , they’ll attract _bugs_ ,” Ginta grits out pointedly, “and the _last time_ we left a mess like this near camp, we woke up _swarmed_ by _ants!_ ”  
“My gods, you’re so squeamish! Who cares about a couple of ants!”  
“When the problem is entirely preventable, _I_ do!”  
He goes to gather the tiny bones of previous meals once more, when Hakkaku steps on the pile. Ginta looks up with a loaded glare at Hakkaku’s stupid, smug expression.

It truly does not matter to note who started the fight, only to say this; someone did start it, someone did end it, and end it in trouble they did.  
(Naturally, the answers to such a statement were, respectively; Ginta; Hakkaku; Ginta.)

This is how, in a moment of foolhardiness perhaps below his standing, Ginta ends up grunting as he lands, on his back, in the clearing they had been watching.

He leans up and scowls at Hakkaku, whose smug look infuriates him for only a moment, before it’s morphing, his friend’s expression turning into something tense and almost afraid. 

It’s a split second realization as a shadow falls over him, muscles tensing as _pure / burning / bright_ presses against his senses. Slowly, he tilts his head backward, gaze shielded from the sun by the priestess’ waterfall of black tresses. He doesn’t even dare to _breathe_ , options running through his head like equations, when she does the most peculiar thing.  
  


She _smiles_ at him.

The wind leaves him as an honest grin stretches across her face, eyes twinkling with happiness.

“Hello, Ginta,” she says in the most unbearably amused tone he’s ever heard.

.

“What the fuck was _that_ ,” Kouga all but barks at Hakkaku, who just groans with a terrible “I know, I know!”

.

“You- you know my name?” Ginta explosively releases, the tension bursting out of him. Her energy is still encompassing him, but now that she seems satisfied with what she has found, it’s no longer abrasive, but _embracing_. He can’t help but relax in her presence, almost against his will. He feels warm. He feels like smiling. He has no idea why. 

She laughs, and he flushes.

“I know more than that,” she grins, extending a hand, and damn if he doesn’t let her help him up. When he stands, he realizes that he’s actually half a head taller than her, now that they may stand at a height, and yet her presence still feels large. Not in a looming, intimidating way, but in the manner that it simply fills the space between them, around them.

It’s… it’s just _nice_.

It’s why, when she reaches up to touch his face gently with her hand, he does not immediately recoil. 

“I know you don’t like being filthy,” she teases good-naturedly as she wipes at his dusty cheek with a damp thumb, “and despite appearances, you’re much sweeter than you want people to believe. I know that wherever you are, Hakkaku can’t be far behind.” 

He flushes again, tensing at her too-knowing tone, but with a gentle pat to his shoulder, he’s soothed.

“Just some of the things that I appreciate about you, Ginta,” she winks.

“But- I don’t… know you,” he falters, scouring his memory. Now that she’s right here in front of him, he can’t help but feel she’s- _familiar_. He’s never met this woman before in his life. He’s so confused, and watches some of the spark leave her eye with a sinking heart. He didn’t mean to make her upset, and somehow, it feels like a crime.

“I know you don’t,” she murmurs, and it’s like he just kicked a puppy, “But that’s okay. I’m… I’m happier for having seen you,” she replies earnestly.

“I can’t imagine why,” he blurts. He gets to watch as the corner of her lips start to lift. She opens her mouth to respond, but something catches her gaze over his shoulder, and her eyes go bright.

“Hakkaku!”

And then, as his own had only moments before, her breath seems to leave her, wide-eyed and gazing, endlessly, behind him.

He turns, and sees not only his best friend, but also his leader have stepped into her clearing.

More than that, though- more than that, as Ginta looks to Kouga, he seems similarly struck, watching the priestess as if she’d--

.

“Kouga,” she breathes,

And it is almost too much.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of.
> 
> I looked back on this after these past few months and thankfully had written down the progression I had desired to go for, so this chapter was blessedly easy to write. I'm thinking of working on Sanctuary next, and unfortunately, I'm suspecting that one will be a little bit harder. I have a few days until I really start work tho, so I'm hopeful of getting something done. Thank you for your lovely comments on the last chapters! They really brought me a lot of joy to look back on. Maybe in another few chapters, you'll get an synopsis of Kagome and Inuyasha's conversation ;)  
> Also, as ever, I am in love with Ginta and Hakkaku. Take the little tidbits that I drop however you desire. I have no idea if they'll fall in love here.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fun little fic I've had gently rattling in my brain for a while, and it'll be a passion project I pick up and drop as the whim takes me. Please don't expect regular updates. I hope you enjoy!


End file.
